Tokyo Ink (Gay SF Erotica)

much he wanted him.
    “I unscrewed the bulb.”
    Quiet and mechanical, Gabe’s voice disturbed Tetsu. He slid across the bed until he was too close for Gabe to move away. Naked in the air-conditioned apartment, Gabe’s skin had grown cold. Tetsu stretched out against him and snaked his arm between Gabe and the wall. He rubbed his open palm against Gabe’s chest. The skin felt different -- dimpled?
    “What the hell have you been doing?” He pushed Gabe onto his back and reached for the bedside lamp. Three clicks and still no light. “Fuck.”
    He grabbed Gabe’s arm, ready to pull him into the front room but Gabe twisted away. He rubbed his palm over Gabe’s arms and legs and thought of the belts on the floor. Welts, not dimples. But he hadn’t heard anything -- certainly not the slap of leather against skin. How then? He shook his head. Nothing the dancer did made any sense.
    “Stop freaking. They’ll be gone by morning.”
    The voice, not so mechanical this time, was no less unnerving. Or maybe it was the words, the implication that this wasn’t the first time he’d done something to himself. Tetsu gave Gabe’s shoulder a gentle nudge. “Look, come into my room.”
    “No -- leave mine.”
    Tetsu sat up long enough to strip his clothes off. He turned back to Gabe, half covering Gabe with one hand resting on his shoulder.
    “Doesn’t work, remember?” Angry sarcasm rippled through Gabe’s words.
    “What doesn’t work?”
    “Seduction.” Gabe shrugged Tetsu's hand from his shoulder.
    “I’m not trying to seduce you.” He pressed his lips against Gabe's shoulder.
    “Good luck with that line. Hasn’t worked too well for me.”
    Tetsu stretched and brushed his lips against Gabe’s cheek. “It’ll work on you.”
    “How’s that?”
    There was no curiosity to Gabe’s question. The anger and sarcasm were gone, too, making the question no more than a dull chess move. Tetsu climbed on top of Gabe, trapping him. He kissed his nose, brushed the other cheek. How many of Gabe’s advances had he rebuffed? It wasn’t something the dancer was used to. He knew that. But was it enough to unhinge him?
    Stupid question. A rich boy on the streets working as a tea room whore, Gabe had been unstable from the beginning.
    “It’ll work on you because you’re crazy,” Tetsu answered honestly.
    “And you’re not?”
    The sudden clearness in Gabe’s voice startled Tetsu. Had he been acting? Were the dark room and welts just another scene? He jerked back but Gabe caught him before he could leave the bed.
    “No. Answer me. You don’t think you’re crazy? This thing with the Code, your whole life dedicated to it.”
    “It’s not crazy when you know why you’re doing something.” Tetsu tried to twist free but three weeks sitting at the desk programming while Gabe passed the idle hours training had made him the weaker of the two.
    “You think you know why you’re doing it?” Gabe swung a leg onto the floor and used the new leverage to push Tetsu flat onto his back.
    “For the kids who weren’t smart enough to get out. For my mother.”
    “Your mother sold you to save herself.” Gabe released him and rolled to the edge of the mattress. “You’re lying to yourself if you think differently or that you’re doing it for her.”
    “Why then. You have all the answers -- why?”
    “Hate. You hate Iyashii.”
    “Iyashii isn’t a person --”
    “It is. Men like Mikio-san and Jun.” Gabe paused and, in the faint glow of vid light from the front room, Tetsu could see that Gabe had turned from the wall and was looking at him, tears in his eyes. “Men like my father.”
    There was no faking the raw emotion in Gabe’s voice. Tetsu wrapped his arms around him, pulled him close. “Where’s Valnyk fit into all this?”
    “I want ValCo -- and I want Magnus dead.”
    “Your father? You want your father dead?”
    “Do you think he deserves it any less than Jun? He’s ordered hits on dozens. Ruined the lives of others, drove them to suicide.”
    Tetsu sensed a new level of pain in Gabe’s last words. There was something unsaid, something personal. He knew Valnyk was a widow, had been one for almost two decades.
    “Your mother?”
    “Not that. She was assassinated when I was six -- merger negotiations.”
    “Who, then?”
    “My first lover, Yasura Ujisato.”
    Tetsu shook his head. Ujisato had committed suicide shortly after ValCo had bought out Yasura Industries below value. That was…